


you keep me grounded

by reformedcharacter



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Canonical Character Death (mentioned), Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, mentions of sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 19:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11168847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reformedcharacter/pseuds/reformedcharacter
Summary: based on a tumblr promptAaron is magic, that’s the only way to explain it. Most notably, his hands. They’re rough and warm, calloused fingers and bitten nails. No one would expect them to provide such gentle touches, reassuring, soothing, familiar. A Home.





	you keep me grounded

Aaron is magic, that’s the only way to explain it. Most notably, his hands. They’re rough and warm, calloused fingers and bitten nails. No one would expect them to provide such gentle touches, reassuring, soothing, familiar. A Home. 

 

one - 

They’re at Barden Park again, this time more successful than their last visit. Chrissie loaded with excuses, no Katie in sight, it’s just them. He’d managed two nights away, an imaginary convention in Manchester. 

The hotel room is gorgeous; fully stocked mini bar, poster bed, soft sheets. They’re lying opposite each other, feet intertwined, breath finally returning to them, a light sheen covering Aaron’s chest. The covers have been pushed to the bottom of the bed, they’re exposed after hours of rediscovering each other. Robert’s marked, light bruises dancing across his upper thighs, apparently the reduced risk of being caught makes Aaron all the more possessive. 

“I’m sorry, you know.” Aaron’s speech is muffled by the white pillows, his face all but pressed tight into them. “For being so jealous.”

“I get it, I know this isn’t exactly ideal for us.” They haven’t spent anytime together recently, Home Farm in the middle of some major deal that Robert has to be a part of. Texts going unanswered, promises unfilled, gazes across the crowded pub as Robert sits with his soon-to-be wife.

“But we’re here now, and thats enough. It has to be.” A light smile venturing on to Aaron’s face, moving his hand slowly to grip at the back of Robert’s head, blonde hair peaking through his tight grip. “I wouldn’t change this moment for a second.” 

He slowly moves to the faint creases in the middle of Robert’s forehead, smoothing out the skin, pressing a tender kiss to the underside of his jaw. A gentle grunt escapes between his closed mouth. Robert’s eyes are screwed tight, head pushing further into the cushions. “Hey, look at me.”

Robert’s eyes are breathtaking, pale blue in the dim hotel light, tears threatening to escape. Cheeks still tinted pink, “I’m so sorry, Aaron. I wish I could do more” 

No matter the circumstance, his name leaving his lovers mouth still gets Aaron’s heart pounding, his throat is tight as he swallows. His hand is at Robert’s temples now, moving his thumb in slow, circular motions, the tension almost visibly leaving his face. Making his way down to Robert’s flushed neck, gentle brushing of fingers teasing the skin, tracing the faint pattern of freckles and small bruises.

“You’re trying, and that’s all that matters.” 

 

 

two -

It was new, being with a man in the open, Robert had discovered. No one judging, no one questioning. Everything was perfect, or as close to perfect as they could be, falling more in love each day. There’s a comforting weight next to him in their bed, a muscular chest he can fit his head into perfectly, reassuring heartbeat in his ear. A stable sense of ease he’d never felt before. But some days, it’s not enough.

The 16th of November. The day he watched his mother die. 

There are no words to describe Sarah Sugden. He’d tried, when Liv found a photograph as he was moving into the Woolpack. Twelve year old Robert, complete with Danger Mouse pyjamas and a front tooth missing, grinning wildly at the camera as he sat on his mother’s lap. Her hair was turning slightly grey, and if you look close enough, her trousers covered with traces of flour. He’d tried to describe her, but how can you sum up a woman who did so much?

Strong. Caring. Wonderful. Kind. Brilliant. Dead. 

The second his eyes opened, he regretted it, closing them immediately. Everything was muted, as though all the colour had been removed from the world. He can already tell the space next to him is empty, even with his eyes shut tight, doesn’t bother to reach out and see if the sheets are still warm. Aaron’s alarm is glaring bright, the numbers flashing at him annoyingly. 8:03. It’s a Sunday, no need to rush to get to work, no Nicola or a mountain of paperwork ahead of him. If he’s lucky he can stay in bed all day, undisturbed.

He’s not lucky. 

The bedroom door slowly creaks open, light from the landing pouring in. Aaron’s holding a tray, complete with a plate of toast and juice. He doesn’t want to eat. He want’s his mum. 

“Hey, I brought you breakfast.” His socked feet are shuffling along the floor. Everything’s too loud. “I know you don’t feel like eating, but you have to. Even if it is only a little bit.”

Robert manages to pull himself up, head spinning, a light pounding in his ears. Grabbing the duvet, heaving it up and around his chest. 

“Thanks” He can barely form words, but Aaron smiles anyway, leaning over and placing the tray over Robert’s lap, complete with a kiss to his lips, and crawls over to his side of the bed. 

The toast is plain, but he takes slow bites, forcing it down his throat. Theres a familiar weight on his shoulder, Aaron’s hand gripping tightly. He moves his thumb leisurely, drawing patterns into Robert’s skin. If he concentrates hard enough, he can feel a heart being traced into the fabric of his shirt. His hands are moving quicker now, pushing at the muscles in Robert’s back, tension slowly being released as a puff of air leaves Robert’s nose. 

It’s not bringing his mum back, nothing can do that. But Robert’s not alone, Aaron’s here, and thats enough.

 

 

three - 

He’s dying, that’s the only explanation. Robert Sugden doesn’t get sick, so he must be dying. 

He’d gone to bed early, with Liv still downstairs watching ‘Broadchurch’ reruns, mocking him as he struggled to get up the stairs, his brain thumping in his skull. Why the hell did they get spiral staircases? Does everyone else get dizzy going up them? “Bedtime at 9pm? This is just the start, old man” she had snorted, shoving more doritos in her mouth, more of them falling onto her top than into her mouth.

Aaron had gone to the pub with Paddy earlier in the evening, so the body next to him in the previously empty bed came as a shock as he was jerked out of his sleep, closer to one am than he’d have liked. But Aaron’s sudden appearance wasn’t the first thing on his mind.

Throwing his side of the cover to Aaron, he tossed his legs over the side of the bed. Stumbling through the room, navigating through the piles of clothes on Aaron’s side of the bed until he makes it to the en-suite. He doesn’t even get the chance to fumble with the light switch before he’s crouched over the toilet, emptying his stomach into the porcelain. He’s burning up, forehead sticky as he lays on the tile floor, all the energy he once had disappearing as he sits in the dark room.

He must have passed out; the light flickering to life as Aaron enters the bathroom, looking concerned as he crouches down and pressing his hand to Robert’s face.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

Robert tries to nod, the action making his head spin. He tries to pull himself up, his hands are shaking, the feeling of nausea washing over him again. He doesn’t even want to think about what he looks like right now. Deathly pale green skin, sweating and shaking on the bathroom floor. Aaron’s hands are grasping at Robert’s shoulders, forcing him to stay seated.

“Stay there, you look like you might puke again.” He’s not wrong, and it isn’t long until Robert is back hunched over, spitting into the water bowl below him. It isn’t until that moment he remembers Aaron hates seeing sick, his brain on a delay, flashbacks of the last time Liv had the flu playing in his mind.

“Go back to bed, I’ll be fine.” He mumbles, his voice as shaky as he feels.

“Not a chance” Aaron’s hands move around to Robert’s chest, pulling him backwards until they’re pressed together, cold tiles below them, helping to cool Robert’s heated skin.

Robert’s hair is sticking to his forehead, beads of sweat falling down his nose. Gently, Aaron brushes the blonde mess of hair up, and away from his skin. Pressing a kiss to the side of Robert’s head. 

Slowly moving his hands back up to Robert’s shoulders, pushing into the muscle in small patterns, leaving traces of red marks into Robert’s skin, alleviating the pressure in his upper body. His hands are moving in swift circular motions, talking him apart as he varies the force of his hands. The strain in Robert’s neck is lessening, the pain in his stomach the only thing stopping him from melting into Aaron completely.

He still feels vile, he needs a mint and four showers, but he doesn’t think he’s dying any more. Not with Aaron behind him.

 

 

four -

Nicola King is an incredible woman. Anybody who is capable of running a business and looking after a house full of children, Jimmy included, whilst half paralysed has Robert’s respect. Except right now. Right now she’s a real pain in his ass. 

It’s Robert and Aaron’s anniversary weekend, two years to the day that they kissed in the back of the Woolpack, ready to commit to each other entirely. They’d booked a weekend away in the Lake District, remote and quiet, a perfect place for them to rediscover and fall in love all over again. Which is why Robert is currently hunched over a laptop in The Mill, spreadsheet open, coffee rings covering the white table, briefcase open on the floor.

She’s arranged a presentation with ‘Brown Transportation Ltd’, a contract Robert had managed to keep hold of from his time at Home Farm. A corporation who only dealt with Robert due to the work he did previously, and Nicola just had to schedule it on his romantic weekend away. 

They’d rescheduled, Aaron shipping Liv off to Gabby’s for the night, so they could at least celebrate with relative peace. But he’s been here for eight hours now, and the presentation is nowhere near done. His eyes are blurring, graphs melding into one, he can barely move his mouse anymore. 

Robert almost flies out of his seat when Aaron approaches him from behind, not even aware that he’d entered the kitchen. 

“How’s it going?” Aaron's hands fall to their usual place, where his neck forms into his shoulders, fingers resting lightly on Robert’s collarbone, thumbs rubbing at the bottom of his neck, a small kiss placed onto the crown of his head.

“It’s not.” He’s five seconds away from saying ‘fuck it’ and running away to the Lake District anyway, anywhere were Nicola King can’t find him ever again. 

“I’m sure it’s perfect. It always is.” His fingers still focusing on the base of Robert’s neck, brushing the base of Robert’s hairline, almost subconsciously, grazing his lips over Robert’s forehead, sympathetic kisses making him lean further back into his husband, accepting more feather-light pecks on the side of his face.

“Come take a break and we can go through it together later” Leaning over and pressing save on Robert’s powerpoint, grabbing his hand and pulling him up towards the staircase.

Home James can afford to miss one contract, he’s sure.

 

 

five -

Aaron’s given Robert many things. 

Robert Sugden has never been an optimist but with Aaron by his side he has everything he’ll ever need. A strong and familiar figure, stabilising him, keeping him grounded. 

A family, a whole army of Dingle’s ready to protect him, defend him against the world. Lisa’s shepherd pies and christmas dinners, a free pint at the Woolpack and a smile from Chas. Liv and Vic, his little sisters. 

A hope for the future, a house in Emmerdale Village, somewhere he never imagined spending the remainder of his life. With his family, his mother and father buried a stones throw away.

A home.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is reformedcharacter for any feedback!


End file.
